small stories
by gracefuljourney
Summary: These are random things I had wrote in the past. None of them are placed in a specific story, so use your imagination if you like.
1. Chapter 1

**This is the first time I've ever published my writing to anyone and I'm extremely hesitant to do so. I'm not a confident person when it comes to the things I write. I'll be honest with you, I absolutely suck with punctuation so just ignore it if this looks hideous.  
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 **This particular conversation comes out of a story I've been working on for several years. I got this idea after I finished playing Red Dead Redemption and I was intrigued by Jack's character. The story I am writing is not a RDR fanfic so it doesn't belong here. I thought I should take a break from my original story and maybe write fanfic? Maybe writing something else for a short period of time could help me out idk. I'm just not sure what I'd write if I did begin to publish stuff here.**

 **I would also like to note that for some reason there were a lot of unnecessary codes between the paragraphs, so if you see something crazy that does not belong in a sentence just ignore it. I tried to delete all the random letters but there's no telling how many I missed.**  
 **I wrote this in the point of view of the character I'm using in the story I've been working on. I'm not sure what's going on here because I just found this on a random document on a flash drive. I tried to edit this but because it was written so long ago I was unsure of what to do, I don't remember writing this. Take this however you want, but please understand that this is taking a lot of effort to share this. Don't be afraid to leave a review, good or bad. I know you don't exactly understand what's going on but here it is...**

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Jack stares at me with a desperate look in his eyes, as if to silently ask for help. He sighs, leans back, and digs in his pocket for a cigarette. He stops when he finds nothing. He pulls at the grass instead, tossing the torn blades in a pile by his boot.

"Why do you smoke?" The question escaped my mouth before I could even think about it. I cringe and my cheeks burn and I hoped he didn't think I was overstepping my boundaries by asking him. I want to apologize, but I'm too embarrassed to speak now.

He's silent for a moment, and he stops picking at the grass. The question causes him to think harder than before, but he simply shrugs it off once he finds his answer. "I don't know. I was bored and wanted something to do."

Silence screams between us. I turn my head at the sound of a voice but ignore it. I wonder if he feels as awkward as I do. By looking at him I couldn't tell, the expression on his face was blank. I wondered what had beat him hard enough to drain all the emotions out of him.

It's Jack who speaks next. His tone is dull, his body becomes heavy, and his eyes harden. It was like this was the first time he'd spoken about himself to anyone. I sit back and listen, trying not to make him feel uncomfortable or embarrassed.

"I started smoking when I was sixteen," he whispers at first and then laughs. He pulls at the grass for a moment. "I started to drink when I was seventeen. I stopped caring about everything and was just desperate for something to hold me over till the next day."

Jack takes a deep, heavy breath and scratches the side of his head. He glances at me and makes eye contact for a moment, but decides it's too difficult and looks away. "I just completely lost it by then, and I figured no one else really cared about me, so what was the point? You know? What was the point in living at all?"

As he went on, I began to realize how much we had in common. Of course, Jack's story was far different from mine, but the more he spoke the more I begged to know. He was struggling to speak. It seems to hurt him to go on but for some damn reason he keeps telling me everything.

"I found a weird bottle of medicine in the boss's office one evening so I swallowed it all. It only caused me to throw up more than I should, and I didn't eat for two days after that because I couldn't hold anything down. And then I decided not to eat at all, and I did until I just couldn't stand it any longer." He laughs at himself a moment, almost in shock that he had actually done any of this.

He finally looks at me and holds his gaze, his eyes hurting but also amused. "I just felt like I didn't deserve a damn thing in the world. It all turned into crossing the street without looking because maybe I'll get hit, or trying to think of a way to break a bone and make it look like an accident. I threw myself off a horse one time, but I ended up catching myself on accident. I got a few bruises from that. I walked down the road at night, in the place where most people get robbed and killed, and didn't nothing happen." His voice has begun to crack and he takes a deep breath. It's hard for me to tell if his eyes were watery, but I thought they were.

He becomes uncomfortably silent and I'm not sure if I should speak up or not. He looks away, the only sounds come from the crickets and the birds.

"It's just so different now. Sometimes I find myself wanting to go back to it, wanting to just find a way to quit everything. But there's some stupid and ridiculous thought that maybe things will get better... that maybe I can get my life back on track, you know?" He stops after that, stares straight ahead, and then scoffs. He shakes his head, his cheeks turning red. "It's stupid I shouldn't have told you that."


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm not sure what this is or where it came from. I found it on a random document on my laptop so I decided to also share it with you. Read it, think what you want of it, do what you like with it because I honestly have no idea what's going on here. I believe this is something that I quickly wrote to help with writer's block? Or maybe it had something to do with a story idea I once head? I can't be sure. I don't even remember writing it, but enjoy.**

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The kiss was desperate, rushed, and needy. It was over in seconds. Esther squeezes Jack's hands, her eyes begging for something more. Jack blankly stares at her, confused as to why she seemed so obsessed with him. He sat there, trying to be nice, unsure of what to say or do.

Esther's eyes frantically stared back at Jack. "You love me?"

That was the last thing he expected or wanted to hear. Did he love her? No. He cared about her, but he never had any feelings towards her. She was a pretty girl and he wished the best for her, but he did not love her. So he doesn't answer, instead he stares down at their hands. She clung tightly to his and he didn't even bother to hold her hands back. That should have been the sign for her, but she wanted to hear him say it and he didn't want to.

"I can't do this," he says softly, avoiding eye contact. He stares across the room, at a table that had become extremely rowdy with wasted men. "You know I can't do this."

He stands up and she jumps up faster than him, her hands gripping his upper arms to keep him in place. He stares down at her, waiting.

"Jack you're the only person I've ever loved. I ain't ever thought about someone as much as I have thought about it. I was just hoping that maybe, for once in my life, you would actually be that person who felt the same way." She says it almost as if it's a question, as if he's supposed to reply with the answer only she wants to hear and that'd be it.

But there's no comfortable way for Jack to answer that. He'd break her heart either way. She pulls him in and wraps her arms around him, pushing herself into his chest. He sighs, softening up his body and hugging her back. It was the least he could do. Esther doesn't wait for a response from him.

"At least think on it, please. You can tell me tomorrow or the day after that, or next week, but give me some type of response so I can find something to do with myself." She pulls him even closer but she doesn't know it's the last time she'll ever hug him.


End file.
